Racing Darkness
by babyfaceblack
Summary: 9 year old Harry Potter runs away from his abusive home at the Dursley's. With only a small back pack and his budding magical power, he tries to survive life on the streets. When a certain "mass murderer" breaks out of prison, the wizarding world is thrown into a frenzy trying to find him.
1. Chapter 1

The flickering light of a dim streetlamp lit the quiet drive. The only sound to be heard was the soft chirping of crickets and the rustling of summer leaves. Hidden away on this very street, a boy tossed and turned in his lumpy bed. The bed springs squeaked as he pressed his bruised back against the hard mattress. The boys eyes sprung open as he suppressed a cry of pain. He rolled over onto his side, ignoring the sharp jabbing pain in his ribs. He tried to close his eyes and fall back to sleep, but it was no use. Now wide awake, he could feel every throbbing bruise and stinging cut. He noticed the sticky red liquid trickling down his side. Blood.

"Shit."

He was dead. If his uncle saw the crimson stained sheets, he would be in for it. He clutched a hand to his side. He could feel the blood seeping through his shirt. The bed springs creaked again as he swung his legs onto the floor. Crawling under his small bed, he rifled through his meager collection of belongings until he found what he was looking for. Gauze. Lifting his shirt, he began to wrap it around his stomach. His fingers shook as blood began to soak through the gauze. The itchy fabric was tight against his chest. He breathed out deeply as the bleeding seemed to cease. he turned his attention back to the blood on the sheets. His cupboard door was locked. There was no way he would be able to wash it out. No way to hide it either. It was such a massive stain that his aunt would certainly see it. He was dead. His uncle had been escalating. Who knows how angry he would get when he saw the stain. What would happen when his uncle went to far? Would anyone ever miss him? He had no friends. He had no other family. Sure, his teachers might notice his absence, but his uncle could cover that up with some excuse. Perhaps a long term sickness, or his uncle could claim that he'd decided to homeschool. His teachers might be suspicious. But he wouldn't be any less dead, even if his Uncle was caught. Would Aunt Petunia cover for Vernon? Would Dudley? Petunia would probably cover for his uncle. Justice aside, he would still rather not end up at the bottom of a river. Harry looked around his small room. He spotted his school backpack in the corner. He reached over and pulled it onto his bed. He emptied out most of his school books and supplies, leaving a red leather bound notebook and a handful of pens. He pulled his clothes from the cupboard shelves and rolled them into tight balls before stuffing them into his backpack. He picked up each of his toy soldiers and placed them in a side pocket. Bending over, he tied up his shoes. Crossing his fingers that it wasn't locked, he pushed open the door to his cupboard.

The kitchen was silent except for the soft whir of the refrigerator. Harry opened kitchen drawers and pulled out as much food as he could fit in his backpack. Crackers, peanut butter, pretzel sticks, canned soup, it all went in the bag. He opened the fridge and stuffed his mouth with cold leftover pasta. He sat cross legged on the floor eating the pasta in front of the opened fridge until his small stomach could take no more. He replaced the mostly empty pasta tub, and closed the refrigerator door with a barely audible click. On his way out of the kitchen he grabbed three full water bottles and a 50 pound note out of his aunts handbag.

The outside air was warm as it blew across his small face. The tall houses looked daunting to the young boy. The world outside was much scarier than he remembered. He'd never been outside after dark. Not that he actually wanted to be. This was not seeming like such a good idea any more. Harry could picture the look of anger that would cross his uncles face when the bloody sheets were discovered. His aunts horror at finding the missing 50 pounds. There was no going back. His footsteps echoed as he slowly walked down the brick steps. No going back. He took one last look at the dark house, and took off down the street at a jog.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the reviews. This chapters a little longer, so enjoy!

HP

"Oi! Wake up" Uncle Vernon banged one chubby fist against the cupboard door. "Get up and start breakfast, I'm starving out here!"

Uncle Vernon waddled off into the kitchen. He sat down upon a creaky wooden chair and began to read the daily news. After a minute of silence, he looked up from the paper.

"Boy!"

Silence answered. With a huff, Uncle Vernon stood up and swiftly walked to the cupboard. He threw open the door.

"Bo-"

The cupboard was empty. Uncle Vernon looked around the small space, as if the boy had somehow managed to hide in the tiny cupboard. His school back pack was gone. As were his clothes, and his only pair of shoes.

"PETUNIA!"

He heard his wife come running down the stairs, sensing the anger in his voice.

"What's wrong Vernon?" She asked.

"THE BOY'S GONE! HE'S GONE! HE'S RUN OFF SOMEWHERE!"

"Well, I'm sure he can't be gone." blubbered Petunia, "Have you checked under the bed?"

Uncle Vernon got on his knees and peered under the bed.

"He's gone. After all we've done for him, he's left!"

"Hush now Vernon, you'll wake the neighbors."

They both went silent as Dudley thundered down the stairs, awakened by the commotion. He looked from his dads purple face, to his moms white one.

"Is it true?" He demanded, "Harry's gone?"

"THE BLOODY BOY'S RUN OFF!"

"He can't have gone far," said Petunia hurriedly, "We'll find him Vernon!"

"That's right we will. And when I'm done with him, he'll wish he'd died along side with his good for nothing parents!"

HP

A bright light was shining on Harry's face. It was warm. He could hear birds softly calling. Grass tickled his back. Confused, he blinked open his eyes. He was in the park. How did he get here? The last nights events came rushing back to him. With a groan, he sat up. His body ached, but at least he didn't wake up in a pool of his own blood this time. He could hear children's voices. He put his glasses on. He could see a playground in the distance. Brushing pine needles of off his oversized clothing, he stood up. He swung his backpack onto his back.

The swings creaked as he swung back and forth. It was a school day. He wondered what Uncle Vernon had told his teachers. Harry dragged his sneakers in the dusty ground. The swings slowed. He watched the other children running around the playground. They were young, too young for school. He could see several parents lounging on the benches, reading books and watching their kids. Harry took his backpack off his back. He pulled out a sleeve of saltines, and began to munch. His meager breakfast soothed his screaming stomach. He took a swig of water to wash it all down. He looked up suddenly. Harry could feel someone watching him. A woman on one of the benches was staring at him curiously. Harry looked down at his feet. He began to nervously swing. Crunching gravel alerted him to the woman's approach.

"Hello. What's your name?"

"Harry."

"Nice to meet you Harry. I'm Lisa."

Lisa held out her hand, and Harry hesitantly shook it.

"Are you alone?"

Lisa's voice was kind. Harry nodded.

"Where are your parents?"

"At home."

Harry's voice was soft. He felt bad lying to the nice woman, but he couldn't tell her that he'd run away. She'd send him right back.

"How old are you Harry?"

"Nine." He answered.

"How come you're not in school?"

Harry shrugged.

"I have the day off." He said

Lisa didn't look convinced. Harry looked down at his feet again, hoping the woman would go away. He began to kick at the gravel. Lisa didn't move.

"What happened to your neck Harry?"

Lisa looked closely at the thin boy. Harry stood up abruptly. He remembered the ring of purple bruises on his neck, left by his Uncle several days before. He'd tracked dirt onto the carpet. He'd been punished severley.

"Nothing." Said Harry quickly.

He tugged his shirt collar up to hide his neck. Again, the woman looked unconvinced.

"Did someone hurt you?" The woman inquired.

"No!"

Harry began to back away.

"Hey, it's okay Harry. I won't hurt you."

The woman took a step towards him. Harry turned around and began dashing for the trees.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around briefly. He could see the woman pulling something out of her purse. A cellphone. She was going to call the police! Harry began to run faster. He would not go back! He reached the trees and began to slow down. After he made sure that the woman was not following, he collapsed to the ground. Leaning against a large maple tree, he began to sob.

HP

Slamming the car door, Vernon stomped into the house. He wrenched open the front door and slammed it behind him. Petunia quickly followed.

"THE NERVE OF THE BOY! THE NERVE PETUNIA! HOW DARE HE! HOW DARE HE RUN AWAY FROM US!"

Vernon was hysterical after the unsuccessful search.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THEY'RE GOING TO DO PETUNIA! THEY WILL BLAME US, HIS CARING AUNT AND UNCLE! BLAME US FOR LOSING THE BOY! If they knew what that freak really was…"

Vernon flopped down on the sitting room couch. His face purple, veins bulging in his neck. Petunia sat down next to him, her lips pursed.

"What will we do Vernon? What will the neighbors say?"

Vernon groaned in response.

"What'll we tell them? People will be looking for the boy!"

"We'll tell them the truth Vernon, the boy ran away. He had a fight with his uncle over the television, or something like that, and that we sent him to his room. The next morning we woke up, and he was gone!"

"That could work. And hopefully the ruddy boy will get himself hit by a car before the police can find him!"

"That boy never appreciates anything he's given! I tell you Vernon, we should have worked harder to stamp out this damn rebellious behavior!"


End file.
